Drabbles Galore!
by hopelily
Summary: This is my collection of random drabbles. Not exactly 100 words. Rating just in case. Chapter 17 up: The childish maturity of Artemis Fowl II. In other words, lollipops.
1. To Know

**Disclaimer**: No, I don't own Artemis or his mother, Angeline.

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_To Know_

Four-year-old Artemis kicked a stone with his Armani loafers. It was very unlike him to be outside, much, in fact like a normal boy his age. But, his mother had found him with a monstrous stack of encyclopedias this morning, absorbing every bit of information available to his young hands. Angeline had chastised him about playing with children his own age instead of locking himself away in the study, and promptly ushered him outside.

Why did people not understand? He wondered. Just because he was young didn't mean he had to be stupid. Of course, though, these were the same narrow-minded adults that had come up with "ignorance is bliss" and "curiosity killed the cat". How incredibly foolish people would have had to been to make up excuses for their on stupidity. It was, entirely incorrect. Surely, mused Artemis, it was much better to know, to know as much as you possibly could. It was simply better that way.

And so, he set about on knowing.

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**Author's Note: **So? I was thinking of starting a place to put all my drabbles so this will be the first. I hope I can get one up about once a week, but for the time being, or at least until spring break, you'll have to cut me some slack. I have midterms next week and these swim practices are really killing me. But one more, I think and then, I'm probably going to have to hang up my pen until spring break. I can't wait!

Lily


	2. Touch

**Disclaimer:** It doesn't really refer to specific people, but no, the characters of Eoin Colfer, are not mine.

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_Touch_

They were like magnets. North and South. Complete polar opposites, so different but yet were drawn, almost inexplicably, together. But there was also something holding them back: a force nearly too strong to fight.

But sometimes they did touch, if just for fleeting moment. But just as quickly, both would pull back, afraid and wary, perhaps, of their own touch, of their own emotions.

They were far apart, too. Like the poles of the earth that longed to be together but were confined to their opposite sides. It was a silent longing, one not often expressed, but one that was meant to be confined, also. Confined in the heart.

And they touched. But life went on.

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Again, I didn't mention by name any characters so it can refer to multiple people. But I got the idea for this from Artemis and Holly, I noticed how for most of the books anyways, they rarely touch. Like in TEC, when Artemis saw her, reread that part. It's weird that I noticed that. But I guess, you notice weird things while procrastinating.

Okay, now this is really my last update for a while now.

Lily


	3. Memories

**A/N:** Right, in case there's actually anyone who watches for my stories, apologies for my lack of updates. It has been so hectic, first with swim competitions, then volunteer work, and it's all just piling up. I don't know how I'm going to get through like all APs next year...but you don't want to hear about my rambling. So let's get on with the story.

**Disclaimer**: Hey, if you actually thought I owned Holly Short, then I would be rich somewhere and wouldn't be lurking on this site!

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Memories

Holly hesitated, her hands over her commander's broken ribs. The image of Julius, lying there in critical condition, unlocked a shrouded room in her palace of memories.

Out of magic, a chest wound had felled her father. Holly, only a child at that time but talented at magic, remember the panic as she saw her father laying so lifelesly on the tunnel ground. Her father who had always been so strong and courageous for as long as she could remember.

And there was nobody else at home for her mother had died long ago. But she had been sure of her abilities and didn't hesitate.

This she still remembered as clear as yesterday even though it was normally barred from her mind. Because all of her magic, all of her efforts, wasn't enough to save her beloved father.

Holly shook the memories away back under lock and key, and with them, her doubts. There was work to be done.

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Yeah, I know, that was kind of a lame excuse for how her dad died, but that's not exactly the point. It's more about the details in the books, how they seem to suggest something (or maybe I've just read them too many times?).

But anyways, did anybody notice the allusions to _Hannibal_? About the "memory palace"? Ah, probably not, I'm just way too much of a geek to have read Thomas Harris and gotten fixated on how similar Clarice Starling and Holly Short are similar. I swear I have this conspiracy theory that Eoin Colfer wrote Holly's character as his version of Clarice. Like TAI could be Silence of the Lambs (which is his favorite movie!) with opposing forces having to work together. And TOD practically was _Hannibal_, with Root as Brigham, Sool as Krendler, and Mason Verger as Opal, provided Holly didn't run away with Artemis, but she did quit the LEP. Okay, enough ranting and sorry to have annoyed everybody who has not the slightest idea what I'm going on and on about.

Anyways, I hope you liked it, and _**please**_ review! I mean, it is really ticking me off how apparently, some fifty to a hundred people have read one of my stories and like three or four review. Well, I do that too, but I'm turning over a new leaf and I'm actually going to review the stories I enjoyed. So, have I guilted you enough into pressing that pretty blue button on your left?

Lily


	4. Daisy Chain

**Disclaimer**: I wish Juliet, Artemis, Angeline, and Holly belonged to me, but they don't. Minerva doesn't either, but maybe that's a good thing.

**A/N:** You know, before I was such a H/A shipper, I kind of supported A/J more. But I have a feeling it'll never be. It's Artemis, after all. So, here's my take on Juliet's POV (first written on graph paper in geometry class, which happened to be extremely boring).

**_

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**_Daisy Chain_**

I watched from afar as Artemis presented to Minerva, a single red rose. Figures that he would fall for a genius, in the end, I thought with a hint of bitterness. He could probably never love anyone less brilliant.

But still, I like to think that _I_ was the first girl he had ever given flowers to. It was just a simple daisy chain, not a rose, and it didn't even mean anything emotional at all. But it was a flower, nevertheless and, more importantly; it was before Minerva, before Holly, too. Back when I was the only girl in his life.

That day, I'd taken six-year-old Artemis to the park, as one of many attempts of Angeline's to have her introverted son socialize for once. It didn't work, of course, and he just ended up sitting on a bench, contorting daisies. He folded the flowers into a chain and gave it to me, all the while explaining its biological properties.

Maybe it didn't mean anything to him except for perhaps vacuoles and pigments, but to me, it was cute. A little boy's gesture, in spite of his genius. Just a moment when it could be seen the kind of boy he could have been.

It was _us_ who grew up together, me who'd been closer to Artemis than anyone else in the world. And as we grew, so did our relationship, like a daisy chain, each flower strung on, with laughs and thoughts and sometimes blood and tears, too. That is, until the samurai blade called Minerva came along and cut it all, flowers and all.

And then, suddenly, the daisies didn't matter anymore. And neither did I.

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**A/N**: Well? What did you think? It wasn't too horrible, was it? Anyways, I hope you all got that the daisy chain was meant to be metaphorical, as the relationshop between Juliet and Artemis. And that was partly inspired by the end of TLC, where Butler describes Minerva to be "sharp as a samurai sword".

So, please review, even if, or actually, especially if, you didn't like it! I really could use the critique, guys, and it is seriously maddening to see like 250 hits on these drabbles and SIX reviews. So, I will be giving you an incentive this time: give me five more reviews and I'll post a full-length story I've been working on. I've already got two chapters done, and well, you don't want my work to go to waste, do you? It isn't half bad, by my slightly biased judgement, so review!

Lily


	5. Sunset

**Disclaimer**: Juliet doesn't belong to me, clearly, because if it was, I wouldn't be sitting here, worrying about what I got on my geometry final.

**Author's Note**: Wow, I did one drabble centered around Juliet, and now I'm kind of hooked. And, my finals are finally done so, to celebrate, here's another drabble, about Juliet leaving to go her wrestling tour, set after TEC:

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_**Sunset**_

It was sunset, and the sky was an exquisite blood red that was simultaneously lovely and terrifying— a bit like life, Juliet thought. It was just another day, just another sunset in an endless cycle of them: a vicious cycle.

The sun, a great yellow bulbous orb, was setting, and she was leaving, leaving the place she had always known. It was a crazy thing to do, Juliet admitted to herself even as she walked away from the formidable manor. It would be so much easier just to stay, just to be like her brother, and just be a bodyguard, like she had wanted to be. Or a maid, like she was supposed to be.

But it wasn't for her, a small but strong voice in the back of her mind told her.

Juliet stopped in her tracks, looking back at the place she had called home for all her eighteen years. Funny how all those years had passed and she still never really felt at home there. Her voice, so loud and ringing, was stifled with sand over the fires, and everything seemed dark and foreboding, like a mausoleum.

Easy wasn't always right, and sometimes the beginning and the end were all the same, just one great, vicious cycle to break. And sometimes, Juliet realized, she had to leave behind all that she had known and loved, and _feared_, to go on with the rest of her life.

Night was beginning and so was she.

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**Author's Note**: Well? I was thinking the idea behind this for a while, but I just didn't have time to write it. Turns out it only took about ten minutes— so I guess I could have squeezed it into my final schedule. Ah well!

Personally, I'm in love with this kind of thing— but what matters is what you think! Seriously, people, give your opinion! I never get why people don't when you have a shot to. It's like how no one votes anymore (insert political rant here).

Have a great summer! I know I will,

Lily


	6. Aurum

**Disclaimer:** Well, I own the idea, but not the certain criminal child genius that it vaguely refers to. So really, Eoin Colfer, you have no reason to sue me!

**Author's Note: **Well, I'm officially back from vacation and still jetlagged. So I wouldn't expect any fast updates on Collision of the Worlds (temporary title, I swear). But in the meantime, here's another 10 minute drabble I had locked up in some dark folder in my hard drive from who knows when. So here goes:

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**_Aurum_**

In reality, it's just a metal, just another number, another element on the Periodic Table. It is Au, and it's atomic number is 79. But it was so much more.

He stared into its depths, into the shining flicker of the gold ingots under fluorescent bulbs. Into the golden, rich aurora that caused all men to yearn and pine for it. For millenia, its luster has captured the hearts of both man and fairy, and empowered the motives for the cruelest acts in history. Wars were waged for it, so much other items of necessity bartered away in exchange for it, and a great many lives lost all in the passionate pursuit of it.

And what for?

It could be eaten, or drunk, or made into anything useful. It couldn't cure disease or resurrect life. And still, all men coveted it and their yearning caused for too much blood to be spilt.

The answer was simple: It is power in its purest form, an intense golden power, an aurora that surrounded and made everything else worthless in comparison. It engendered wealth, and so it engendered greed.

Staring at those ingots, in that moment, he never loved gold more— and never hated it more.

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**Author's Note:** Aurum means gold, in Latin, in cause you were wondering. You know, like _Aurum Est Potestas_, Artemis's family motto. And the "he" is clearly referring to Artemis, of course, but I didn't use names because I kind of wanted it to represent a general "he", the entirety of mankind, I suppose. 

Anyways, I will try to update Collision soon but I can't promise anything right now. The next chapter is still not even close to finished and it doesn't help that I still have to go to my volunteer job, swimming, orchestra, art, etc while being completely crazy because I can't get enough sleep (Did I mention I hate planes?). Yeah, it kind of sucks right now, but I'll try to put in some real work on it this week. Hopefully, by the weekend. Hopefully.

But thanks for being so patient, and giving me gasp 3 more reviews while I was gone. Mainly thanks to my friend Angela, probably (DroopingRoseHead). Incidentally, she just put an AF fic up, so I'd urge you all to go read- it's quite good.

Please, please review? It make my day and possibly make me a little less sleepy...therefore envigorating me to work on Collision? (Well, it was worth a try.)

Lily


	7. Why?

**Disclaimer:** Artemis Fowl and all other implied characters aren't mine.

**Author's Note:** This was just something that came to me when I was swimming yesterday. Yes, I know, I think about strange things when I'm swimming. Cut me some slack, it was dark and the lights are kind of...ghostly?

I seem to remember that there was an Einstein quote relating to this, but I couldn't find it online so I used a different one. But enough talk, here's the story/drabble thing:

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_"A normal adult never stops to think about the problems of space and time. These are the things which he has thought about as a chlid. But my intellectual development was retarded, as a result of which I began to wonder about space and time only when I had already grown up."_

_-_Albert Einstein

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_Why?_

Artemis Fowl II glared irately at his computer screen. But not even pure fury could conjure up a decent idea. He was only nineteen years old and yet, was drained, completely devoid of goals, of projects, of plans.

This was not supposed to be, he thought. He was supposed to be the genius, the one who would always know what to do— his mind, after all, was the only constant in his life. He was not supposed to fail, because he was the heir of the Fowl Empire and Fowls did not fail.

Relax, he told himself, attempting to clear his head of all those muddled thoughts. Think of what you have done already, all those great achievements. You are still the same person who has accomplished all of that. In your youth, you have forged the Lost Diaries of Leonardo Da Vinci, you have sold the pyramids to a western businessman, you have stolen the coveted _Fairy Thief_ at the tender age of fourteen. And you have captured a fairy.

Artemis's eyes flashed open. That was the key— he had done all of this in his youth. Even as he had worked to translate the fairy Book, he recalled his exact thoughts, the reason for his motivation and belief that he would succeed, beyond all prediction. He was just young enough to believe in such tales, and mature enough act upon those beliefs. C. Niall DeMencha. It is true, he thought, age is detrimental to intelligence and far worse, it will leave you without an ounce of imagination.

Why is the sky blue? All children will ask this question and many others, though they may not ever receive an answer. Eventually, they will stop asking, and therefore, they will never know the secrets of the universe. Those who are truly brilliant never stopped asking: Isaac Newton wondered about the apple falling from the tree, Galileo Galilei sought to know about the stars in the universe, and Albert Einstein asked what light was made of. And none of them stopped in their quest until they knew.

It is only natural that when a child, even a truly brilliant one, grows up, they begin to lose that childish naivety and curiosity that has fueled their ventures for so long. And that is a terrible thing to lose indeed. Why must all children be pushed to grow up and lose the inquisitive nature that has fueled all the world's great genii?

_Why?_

_

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_

**Author's Note:** Yes, I know it's a bit weird, but for clarification, this is just in Artemis's thoughts. And you know, while I was searching, I found some really interesting Einstein quotes and I just have to show someone. Here are a few favorites:

_"The hardest thing in the world to understand is the income tax." _

_"Do not worry about your problems with mathematics, I assure you mine are far greater." _

_"The devil has put a penalty on all things we enjoy in life. Either we suffer in health or we suffer in soul or we get fat." _

_"If we knew what it was we were doing, it would not be called research, would it?" _

_"Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one." _

_"Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. THAT'S relativity."_

_"The fear of death is the most unjustified of all fears, for there's no risk of accident for someone who's dead." _

And, my personal favorite:

_"Education is what remains after one has forgotten everything he learned in school."_

Anyways, review, review, and review some more! Thanks again for putting up with my rambling, drabbling, excuse for a story.

Lily


	8. Phenomenon

**Disclaimer:** Arty and Juliet aren't mine...and actually, the idea of a sunset isn't either...

**Author's Note:** I know all the readers of Collision are probably staring at their screens right about now wondering why the ---- that stupid girl hasn't updated yet. Well, I'm sorry to inform you that I'm a bit emotion-ed out to write a proper ending to this fic that I've spent far too much time on just to end with a mediocre portrayal. So I hope you'll excuse me if I take another week to brood over it with my beta.

In the meantime, I found this in the dark, dusty folders of my laptop and realized that I haven't posted a drabble in quite a while. So this is it:_**

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Phenomenon 

"Do you ever think, Arty, that we know too much?" Juliet asked, kneeling down on the tender spring grass, beside the ten-year-old boy, her wide, fluttering skirt swirling about her knees with the freedom of the wind.

"What do you mean, Juliet?" The young boy replied with a voice that was thoroughly ancient despite his tender age, his observant eyes still entirely absorbed in examining the organisms beneath their feet with his microscope.

"Look," she said, waving to the vibrant sunset that was occurring before their very eyes. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Not really," Artemis answered matter-of-factly. "The vivid colors are merely caused by the scattering of shorter wavelength light and the low-angle scattering of light off dust particles in the air. A relatively simple phenomenon."

Juliet sighs and spoke with all the innocence of a teenager entranced by all the delicate beauties of life. "But why deduce everything to just science? Especially when it ruins all the mystery and all the wonder," Juliet breathed, as if attempting to absorb the simple splendor of the scene. "Why not just enjoy the moment?"

Without waiting for an answer, the girl rose from her kneel and twirled in the glory of nature, her skirt spiraling magnificently, her hair glowing with a golden aura in the effervescent light. For the first time, young Artemis raised his eyes from the microscope to glance towards the vivacious girl who danced before him, embodying all the radiance of a golden sunset. And for a moment, he wondered: was there such thing as knowing too much?

The boy's inquisitive nature retorted in a flash— no, of course not. Surely Juliet was just being silly, as teenage girls often are; surely she held no innate awareness of the beauty of natural phenomena that he, a genius beyond all measure, lacked. Surely not.

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**Author's Note:** This was inspired by a part in _Angels and Demons_ by Dan Brown during the Camerlengo's speech where he mentioned that science had reduced the wonder of a sunset to mere particles and wavelengths, or something to that effect. Yes, I am a proponent of science, but I have to agree with that much. Sometimes, knowledge can make one so disattached, just as the greatest obstacle most doctor/lawyer/academic types face is to keep their expertise-- and their humanity. I hope you liked it. 

A news byte before I sign off-- the previous drabble in this collection, "Why?" was nominated for two Orion Awards by the amazing missLivia. I hope you'll take a look if you haven't already.

And of course, please, please review and help encourage me to get over my writer's block and finish Collision!

Lily


	9. Carrousel

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it, never will.

**Author's Note:** You remember how I said I was going on hiatus? Well that same day, I went on a drabble-writing rampage and turned out a handful, some good, some bad. So I thought I'd post them occasionally so all you faithful readers won't forget me. So here it is:

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**C A R R O U S E L**

You spin round and round on the child's plaything, your brother forever patient, always indulging you in even your silliest of ideas. When you see your father, however, he is always tapping at his watch, wondering when the annoyance that he considers parenthood will finally be over.

But you are only a child so you don't notice a thing. All you think about are the pretty bright lights that bathe the fairgrounds in a lovely radiance, and how with each dip of the lively music, your ersatz horse dips as well. And every time you spin around to where your brother and your father stand, you wave cheerfully, and see in the brief instant, a patient face and an impatient one. Patient, impatient…patient, impatient…

In fact you are too absorbed in the lights and sounds of the carrousel that sometimes, you forget to look back to your father and your brother. You barely even notice when, for a moment, the light flashes harshly and the music is disrupted in a raucous bang. People all around are screaming, but in your child's mind, there is only the fun of the moment, the joy of the carrousel ride.

But the next time you remember to wave, only your brother is there.

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**Author's Note:** I suppose this could be anything you want, real or imaginary, but to me this is Juliet and her story. I've always wondered how her parents died and this image just dogged me.

So you know the drill: hands on the keyboard and hand over your reviews. ;-)

Lily


	10. Once Upon A Time

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it, never did, never will. 

**Author's Note:** See, guys, I'm still alive and kicking! (Crazy busy, and possibly failing math, yes, but alive nevertheless.) So here's another drabble from the ol' hard drive:

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**_Once _Upon_ A_ Time**

"Mommy, mommy!" a pair of little boys cried out to their adoring Mother. "Tell us a fairy tale."

And Father said, "Come, children, and I'll tell you a story."

Father had locks as dark as a raven's feathers, skin as fair as snow, and eyes as blue as the great oceans. He was intelligent, but not always kind to the children for he often had little time for the boys. But today, he patiently recounted a familiar tale to the children:

"Once upon a time, there was young boy who thought he was very smart. But he was not happy for his heart was so cold and frozen. And once upon a time, there was a beautiful fairy girl, with hair as bright and red as fire and a spirit to match. Together, they fought dragons and gremlins and trolls and never failed in their quests. But most importantly the girl melted the ice in his heart with her magic and she made the boy's life as bright and beautiful as she was. They lived in different worlds, but the boy managed to unite the two, so he and the girl could be together. And together, they lived happily ever after."

The boys climbed off Father's lap, a smidge disappointed for they had been yearning for a tale of thrilling adventures and precise details about slaying dragons and gremlins and such. Once they had left, Mother frowned at Father.

"Now, you know that's not how it went," she said.

"No, of course not, Minerva," he answered, his eyes as blue as a river long-forgotten. "It was just a fairy tale."

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**Author's Note:** I have a feeling that many of you are thinking that my three-year-old sister wrote this or something. But I promise that it's meant to be that way-- I tried to write it in a sort of fairy-tale prose, though I don't know if I succeeded or not. 

In my mind, this is how A/H is best-- there, but not happening. It's sad, but to have a happily-ever-after ending rips all the emotions, all the turmoil fromit that makes it so strong. That's what I think anyways.

So I hope you all understood this weird little thing. Until next time, ta-ta,

Lily

P.S. Review! (Of course...)


	11. Rain or Shine

**Disclaimer: **If I owned it, I wouldn't be a teenage girl worrying about stupid calculus, now, would I?

**Author's Note:** Hey, guys! It's only two more weeks till spring break and I have a short day today, and without swim practice to boot. I'm in a great mood today, so here's another drabble:

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**Rain** or _**Shine**_

It was raining on the surface far above the doldrums of the city beneath the earth the day he finally realized that he was in love.

The words still sound lame and clichéd in his practical mouth. He had always been the sort of boy who raised his hand in class only ever to offer an answer— correct, of course. He had been the reliable one, the stoic, silent boy who always did well, but no one really paid attention to. After all, who would marvel at the rain when the sun emerges?

She was the sun with all those unbidden planets revolving around her. She was the girl who crammed at the last minute and still managed to pass in the end. She was the secret weapon of the team, the slight figure, almost too diminutive to be noticed, who ducked into the nooks and crannies before those gaudy galaxies even completed a single revolution. But all the while, he was in the crowd, the silent rain always prepared to be the reprieve from the heat of the sun.

But she never needed it.

Yet, one day, the sun didn't shine any more and the lonely planets found another. The garish galaxies minded their own. It was only the rain who waited patiently, wishing, hoping for the sun to shine again. After all, what is the point of the rain when there is no sun to light and parch the world with her intensity?

He needed her much more than she ever needed him.

And so the gentle showers came, exactly on time, and hovered over the city. Some grumbled, some danced, but no one really cared very much. Unlike the sun, the rain was never much to remark upon.

One might say that it was finally his moment to shine, with no bright sun to overshadow him this time. But what those bystanders never understood was that the rain could never shine. It was only the sun who did that.

But she had disappeared.

_Come rain or shine, I'll be there. I promise, _he whispered to the latent memories, holding the remnants of the last bright rays of warmth closed in his cloudy hand, afraid to let it go. If he opened his hand, all that light might simply dissipate and perhaps, a piece of her might too.

And so he waited, patient and reliable as always, for the sun to overwhelm him once more, alone in the doldrums.

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**Author's Note:** This was written on the spot, in response to a reader request for a drabble about Trouble from Captain Evermind. I decided that it was high time I did something about him anyway, given his popularity in this fandom so this just sort of came. 

I don't really like it, though. It's piled with symbolism, but to me, it still seems boring. Unnatural, like I'm trying too hard. Urgh.

But tell me what you thought, in this amazing thing called a review! Come on, click that pretty lilac button: it misses you!

Lily


	12. Looking to the Sky

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of them, even if I wish I did. Also, the italicized lines aren't mine.

**Author's Note:** Guess what? I'm on spring break! Yay! So for the next week, I'm free to lounge around at home, hard at work doing all the things I've been putting off: my paintings, volunteer work, _more_ swimming, and of course, writing the sequel to Collision. The first four or so chapters are saftely in my head, but it's high time to get them on paper, isn't it? But this time, I vow to have at least ten chapters done before publishing so I'm not crammed at the end, juggling school and everything else as well so you'll have to wait until summer before I post it. June 15, here I come.

So in the meantime, I have some more drabbles for you. This one was inspired by this amazing song I just downloaded (legally): Ordinary Day by Vanessa Carlton. It's lovely...I remember hearing this years and years ago and loving it. The italics are the refrain from the song. Enjoy:

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**(But **_**He**_** Was)**

**Looking **_**To**_** the **_**Sky**_

The sky of Ireland was as blue as she had ever seen it. Just as any other day, the great expanse above seemed to stretch endlessly over the crisp green horizon, its perfection only interrupted by the small figures in the distance. Among them, one stood alone, his slight form a dark-suited splotch among the pristine landscape, his visage turned to face the azure of the sky.

At that moment, to her, he was just an ordinary boy, just another boy despite all his eccentricities. And yet, as she regarded him, she wondered why he stared at the sky with such intensity.

There's nothing special about him, she told herself adamantly. He's just another boy.

_But he was looking to the sky._

And when she next saw him, she could've sworn that he had stolen a bit of that intense azure and captured it in his own eyes, so blue they were.

And he stared right past her, despite all her attentions, despite all she wondered but never dared to ask.

_But he was looking to the sky._

The years past and the sky remained. Sometimes, at night, the blue was so dim, it'd almost faded altogether, but she held comfort in the fact that a slice of blue, however infinitesimal, remained at the edge of the horizon, waiting.

And he, his skies took him to lands far away, to cross the world in search of the impossible. For all his darkness, she always awaited his return as she watched for those rare shooting stars that cut across the night sky, a brief reprieve from the inescapable black.

Sometimes, she detested the fact that she lived on borrowed light, that she could not too capture a bit of blue in her own sights. Sometimes, she even hated him for it.

_But he was looking to the sky._

They say that the sky had no limits, but she knew that it was not true. One could only go so far, so high before the darkness would catch him in its grasp and he would forced to descend back into the safety of the azure. Or at least, she hoped.

For perhaps, if it was true, that even the seemingly endless expanse of the sky had a limit, surely he did too. And one day, perhaps he would sink back to the horizon, his feet firmly planted on the crisp green fields as he had stood that day so long ago.

_But he was looking to the sky._

And never once had she considered the possibility that he may encounter another sky on his travels. After all, when one sky is already too much for a single soul to behold, how can there ever be another? But again, she was mistaken.

Even the sky needs its light, and it didn't come from the moons circling about, living on borrowed light. It came from the sun.

Yes, her hair was as bright as the lustrous gold of the sun and apt to accompany the sky on its many journeys. And when one could be so close to touch the radiance of the sun, who needed a moon? No one, and especially not him would look to the harsh, unforgiving ground when all the heavens was within their grasp, no matter what waited below.

Maybe, if he did not have sky in his sights, he might've glanced down at the world on the ground and saw something incredible among the ordinary. She was no sky, no sun, nothing extraordinary, but perhaps… Part of her still waited for that day she knew would never come.

_But he was_ too occupied_ looking to the sky._

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**Author's Note:** I just adore this song and I tried to capture a bit of it in this, but I'm not sure I succeeded. I know I tried the star-analogy last time and not to great avail but I had to. It just came. Sorry if it sucked.

For those of you are staring at the screen in confusion, it's from Juliet's POV, about Artemis and a bit of Minerva, too. Get it?

And now, I'd just like to inform you that I have about ten of these still unposted and all of spring break to fix them up so the more you review, the more I post. I mean, I could very well post every day next week and not run out, if that's what you'd like. So make it happen, guys-- review!

Lily


	13. Notes from Nowhere

**Disclaimer: **Hmmm...let's take a wild guess, do I, an amateur fifteen-year-old writer, own a published book series? Somehow, I doubt it.

**Author's Note:** And here is the long-awaited next installment of Drabbles Galore!! Uh, not really. I wonder, why do I always get more reviews for my Word of the Day drabbles even when they suck? Why does no one read this? Hmmm...the mysteries of the universe.

Anyway, this is my first drabble where I (gasp) actually counted the words like a good little drabble-writer and voila, three 100-word drabbles. This would be called a triple-drabble, I guess. But who cares? I just like how cool the roman numerals look. ;-)

So, enjoy!

* * *

**NOTES**_ from _**NOWHERE**

**: : I : :**

The mountain breeze ruffles her hair as the Ferrari zigzags down the gravel, forming scuff marks that the servants will soon scrub away. So that the house is pristine and all troubles forgotten. So that her mother is forgotten.

A slip of paper floats through the open window in the draft, adorned with the loopy handwriting that had garnished many school notes. It floats by her face but she doesn't notice for her eyes are blinded by tears.

_Fly, my little girl, fly far away. My wings were broken; I landed in a nest of regrets._

_Don't be like me._

**: : II : :**

Her curly blonde head is bent diligently over the equations, temporal mechanics that could possibly alter the very fabric of time and space. Her lips pressed close together, taut with concentration and excitement.

When the maid approached with mail (ridiculous letters from various universities, no doubt), she merely discarded the plain envelope.

_You grew up so sheltered, my dear. You never heard any of it, the yelling. You were wealthy and pampered, everything I was not and wished to be. I thought I would be happy and so would you. I was wrong._

_Don't make the same mistakes I did._

**: : III : :**

The postman delivers the letter but it is not read. Its receiver has much to ponder.

He is gone. She shouldn't care, but can't help but feel a twinge of guilt when she sees his manservant so despondent. It even surprises her that she cares for the feelings of the help.

She doesn't need him. She doesn't need anyone.

_You never needed me, Minerva. Your first steps were away from me. You never asked me for anything, not once._

_One day, you'll read these notes from nowhere, alone. I will die and you'll never know. How much **I **needed **you**._

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**Author's Note:** In case you didn't notice, this was about Minerva and her mother-- and my attempt to give her character since she is just such an exasperating, uninteresting Canon Sue. Hopefully, these three drabbles show the development of her characer over time...hopefully.

I don't really like this, mainly because I think its too sparse. I can never quite recreate that beautiful sort of sparseness that some of the best drabblers can...urgh. But it's an honest attempt, at least.

The little lilac button is all lonely from unuse. Why don't you make it and me happy and click on it?

Lily


	14. Black & White

**Disclaimer: **Artemis Fowl & co. is to Eoin Colfer as nothing is to Lily.

**Edit: **Sorry about the extra alert, guys, but I messed up something stupid and long story short, I reposted it. No, nothing new.

**Author's Note:** So...I understand this is a little late, but I think I can be forgiven, especially since I just took an AP test today and it took me until six to get home...oh, the misery of high school.

But anyway, I assume you all clicked here for the "sneak peek" of the sequel to Collision? Well, it's not really an excerpt, per se, but this drabble is _related_ (loosely) to the sequel in question. (For more information, please visit my profile and scroll down until you see the giant bold letters.)

So...enjoy:

* * *

**Black** & _White_

_What's black and white and red all over?_

Daddy was always there for you. You knew he was busy, but somehow, he always found time for trips to the cinema and crunchball matches.

You never minded getting up at the crack of dawn, to sit in his lap along with the rich aroma of coffee and read the paper. Sometimes his forehead would crease over the news but he always cheered to peruse the comics with you. And when he returned from a long trip, he would bring chocolates and a novel.

Other girls dreamed of their prince, their savior. You never needed one—there was always Daddy.

_What's black and white and red all over?_

The newspaper slammed onto the table with a dull thud. You craned your neck to see bold letters screaming: WAR.

Your father didn't read the comics that day. He didn't even down his coffee before departing. So you tasted a sip of the dark liquid and found it bitter. But after five long years, you grew to like it.

There were no more films or books or crunchball matches. Instead, a collection began on the wall in Father's study. Dark, inky smudges from the newspaper clippings rubbed off as he traced them each day.

The ink never quite washed off.

_What's black and white and red all over?_

It was in those years that you decided that you didn't need a prince. Because, after all, they always left and their princesses could only wait and wonder if they would ever return.

One night, he didn't come back.

But you could be your own prince.

You slept till noon and read the paper, blackening your fingers and sipping coffee. You read all about him and his supposed heroic sacrifice— princes were always brave— but knew it wasn't true. Maybe there never were any true princes.

Still, you kept the clipping. And now it was you who started a collection.

* * *

**Author's Note:** As most of you have probably guessed, this is in Holly's POV, about her father, very long ago. Three drabbles, one hundred words each, italics separating them noninclusive. But what about, you might ask? And what does this have to do with the sequel? Well, clicky-clicky the profile! (Well, you can guess. ;-))

Also, for those of you who know me well, see if you can see any of the symbolism in here. I'm rather proud of it and I'd just ate to have it go to waste. And this drabble is much in part about a war-- cookies to those who can tell me which one! And you don't just get cookies-- if you can figure this out, it'll give you a significant hint as to the plot of the Collision sequel!

So, for being so nice and giving you a sneak peek of sorts despite the fact that all I want to do is sleep for about twelve hours, don't I deserve an itsy-bitsy review? Pretty please?

Lily


	15. Dreams

**Disclaimer:** Artemis Fowl (c) Eoin Colfer.

**Author's Note:** I was going to write this amazing one shot abotu Opal that I was just so proud of but I never had the time to finish it so here's a few replacement drabbles. Rather different than my usual since they don't really connect in a linear pattern as well, I think. Ah well.

Enjoy:

* * *

**D**** R E A M ****S**

**: : I : :**

**T**eacher's hands were worn with work. With every pause in her anecdote, she pushed the thick silver needle through cloth. Each stitch was flawlessly tiny, a true masterpiece.

The girl's chocolate eyes were fixed upon the needle darting through the seas of cloth as were the rest, but hers were bitter with disdain.

She ignored the anecdote too, some wheedling, cautionary yarn about straying too far from the flock. She only thought that if she held the needle, burnished with clout, she would deviate from the miniscule stitches and stab it boldly through the perfect embroidery.

Through those perfect lies.

**: : II : :**

**P**arades came through Haven during solstice but they always passed the East Bank by for its affluent primness was no place for the rowdy throng.

She had never liked the city— too loud and too dim-witted. Yet that day, she stole away from her family's own ceremonial soirée to watch the festivities from atop a towering elm, dutifully planted by the city fathers.

All day, she watched tirelessly, never moving from her perch, ignoring the calls of her father to come present herself in a civilized manner.

When the excitement finally receded, she had to fight to suppress her tears.

**: : III : :**

**A**s a girl, she'd never cared much for frocks and tresses and the like. Her dark hair merely lay lank upon her shoulders and her habiliments were as simple as propriety would allow.

It wasn't until after her meteoric rise to power that she found beauty necessary— so when they asked, she could simply reply 'no'.

Thus she began each day with a careful application of makeup and the meticulous arrangement of her locks into an elegant yet understated twist. She accomplished this without a mirror.

For without the decorative measures, she could not bear to regard her own reflection.

**: : IV : :**

**F**our walls closed her in, a situation that would've reduced any normal being to tears. But she only laughed.

She had been born in to unimaginable wealth and clout, but her dreams towered into the blue skies above. Born with the golden orb and scepter within her grasp, there had been just one final commodity she lacked. She had had everything but yet _it_ was so unattainable.

Having scoured land and sea, how droll that it should be now, with the entire world intent on keeping her entrapped, that she finally discovered precious freedom.

It was all in her mind.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I hid a few hints that I thought were rather clever in there, so I hope at least some of you caught them. And in case you're staring at III in confusement, here's a hint: it's set soon after Opal rose to power by crushing her father's business.

I'm currently having a really sucky day so it'd be much appreciated if you could review and brighten my day.

Thanks,

Lily


	16. Being Right

**

* * *

**

Disclaimer:

Artemis Fowl (c) Eoin Colfer 2001. My imaginations (c) me 2008.

**Author's Note:** I'm sure you're all waiting just waiting with such anticipation for the sequel of Collision to _finally_ make its appearance. (/sarcasm/). Unfortunately, I'm not out of school yet so, no such luck. But just to tide you over, here's another drabble:

* * *

**B**_**E**_**I**_**N**_**G **_**R**_**I**_**G**_**H**_**T**_

He is unlike anyone you ever met before because he is like you.

Never have you been understood, even by your own family who treat like the child that you are and fail the see the genius you possess, the brilliant mastermind you could become. They never even considered the fact that a genius's intellect could inhabit a child's body, that the two could coexist. But he sees that and respects that because he has faced the same.

And so you talk, entranced at finally found somebody so similar, so understanding, even though, you know that it seems too good to be true. Deep inside, you are far smarter than to believe in a silly little thing called love.

In the end, of course, you are right. Only a child's asinine illusion could've ever imagined this fantasy and you realize that , you were that child your family once believed you to be. But you were also that genius, exactly like you'd claimed so long ago. You were right all along.

And for once, you hate being right.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This, obviously, centers on Minerva. Please excuse the rather unpolished nature-- this is totally unedited since I really don't have time at the moment to think about it. I just jotted it down in like a minute. Now, gotta go study my butt off for SAT IIs and finals. My life officially sucks.

Ah well. Make it a little better with a review? (Please?)

Lily


	17. Lollipops

**Disclaimer: **Eoin Colfer (c) Artemis Fowl 2001. Me (c) nothing 2008.

**Author's Note: **I know, I know, it's been ages since I've updated Manhattan and I'm dearly sorry about that. But my beta and I have yet to work out a permanent agreement over the details and in the meantime, I've been so wrapped up with school and whatnot. Also, I just oral surgery yesterday (nothing serious), but I'm still kind of groggy from all the drugs they pumped into me, so excuse the noncoherence, s'il te plait.

Anyway, here's a silly old drabble I dug up to show that I still love you guys. Enjoy:

* * *

**L O L L I P O P S**

One could reasonably say that Artemis Fowl II was never a child:

He never stole from the cookie jar. He plundered from the affluent and avaricious.

He never finger-painted masterpieces for Angeline to proudly tack on the refrigerator. He preferred to forge the works of Da Vinci instead.

He never skipped over hopscotch squares. He captured pieces upon the checkered squares of a chessboard, defeating the world's champions.

He never believed in the monster under the bed. He believed in fairies and kidnapped one to prove it.

But he never stopped believing in fairies.

In truth, he never grew up.

**Author's Note:** 100 words exactly. But I wouldn't trust my word right now. These drugs are really messing with my mind. I think I'll go back to bed now.

Grace me with a review?


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